


If These Walls Could Talk

by Aythli



Series: Gears [2]
Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Literature, M/M, Romance, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 16:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4673672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aythli/pseuds/Aythli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurogane and Fai left their own mark on Mika and Sari's house. (Lost in Translation verse/missing scene from LiT)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If These Walls Could Talk

**Author's Note:**

> I originally had a couple of snippets for this in the main Lost in Translation fic, but I chickened out and yanked them before posting it. The lovely Cloverfield not only convinced me to finish it up and post it but also was gracious enough to beta.

Neither Mika nor Sari were exceptionally careful in their house. They had tried - lord knows they had tried when they'd first moved in and the idea of owning their own space was still novel, and the fleur-de-lis wallpaper still smelled of glue and was a deep brown instead of the faded tan it acquired over the years - but eventually they'd had to admit that they were fighting a losing battle.

The walls on the entire downstairs hallway were scraped from boxes of parts brought back and forth from front door to workshop. About halfway down, there was a spray of gouges from where Mika had tripped rather spectacularly and tossed a box of gears directly into the wall. He'd managed to escape with only a wrenched ankle and shoulder, but his pride suffered the most from Sari laughing uproariously behind him.

It had been one of the first marks they'd put on the walls, and Sari had a tendency to run her hands over it whenever she passed. Even though her workshop walls were scarred beyond repair or really identification - it was more a conglomeration of incidents rather than a few separate ones - most of the marks within the house told a story, and Sari could name and practically date each and every one of them.

The kitchen had a large dent just below the cupboards and across from the stove. Before her workshop was set up properly, she'd toyed around with using the steam vents of the stove as a source. The results had been disastrous, and Mika had never let her forget it. The stairs to the upper floor had a number of nicks in the risers from a truly memorable celebration of Mika's promotion to the next racing grade. He'd bought her an articulated metal skeletal arm that she'd been ogling for a month in the front window of their neighboring artist, swept her up into his arms, sculpture and all, and proceeded to carry her to their bedroom.

Well, he'd attempted to carry her to their bedroom. His feet had others ideas, and they'd tumbled down the entire flight to land in a heap at the bottom. The sculpture, it turned out, was far more resilient than their old stairs - metal bashed in the corners of the risers in places. Sari stepped carefully over one such place where the jagged wood poked upwards and threatened to snag unsuspecting toes. They could have fixed it, but that would be tantamount to admitting the need to fix all of the marks in their house, and they added new ones fast enough that they'd never be able to keep up.

She pushed the door to the extra bedroom open - three circular divots from rods ejected from a hand armature she'd been carrying around while she gathered laundry; the design hadn't been as stable as she'd thought - and stepped into the painfully vacant space before planting her hands on her hips. The boys had left only a little over a week ago, but this was the first day off she'd had, and if she didn't visit the room, if she didn't strip the bed and clean the room, she could almost pretend that they were coming back.

The sheets were a mess, bunched at the end of the bed like they'd been kicked there, but the clothes they'd lent Kurogane and Fai were folded neatly on one of the chairs. Had to have been Kurogane. Her association with Fai may have been brief, but he didn't seem like the type to waste time folding clothes. As meticulous as he'd been with his magic and with helping her, his shirt and pants had been remarkably rumpled in the morning - he'd clearly picked them off the floor, given them a good shake and thrown them on.

She ran her hands over the clothes. Even if she gave them back to their original owners, they would always seem like Fai and Kurogane's. She knew her brother wasn't hurting for clothes what with Ami's success, and Kurogane's were some of Mika's that were too big. She scooped the stack into her arms and crossed to the low trunk that sat against the far wall. There was always the possibility that they'd come back.

To the left of the trunk, just beside the door, edges of the wallpaper peeled away from an elegant, albeit chaotic mark charred directly into the wall. She pressed her hand against it - it fit almost perfectly under her palm and was ever so slightly warmer than her skin.

This mark - this _absolutely_ foreign mark - was not one that she knew.

* * *

The race was over; Yaro was beaten, and the ragtag group made their way back to the house with promises of celebration and alcohol.

The long hallway that twisted through their house crossed the stairs before it reached the kitchen. With the rest of the group leading the way, Fai and Kurogane were left at the back. Kurogane caught Fai's elbow and tugged him towards the stairs.

Fai stumbled along behind him. “Eh, Kuro-tan? The others are celebrating downstairs.”

Kurogane pulled Fai into the room despite his protests and kicked the door shut behind them with an idle foot. He caught Fai’s shoulders and pinned them to the wall next to the door.

“Kuro…?”

“No more.” He watched the color drain from Fai’s face and bit out a curse. “Damn it mage, why are you so determined to misunderstand me? No more running. No more confusion. No more doubt.”

He waited for Fai to lift his chin, waited for Fai to look up at him, waited until he was completely disarmed and distracted by whatever he was about to say, and then pressed his lips to Fai's. The kiss was soft and gentle, but definitely not chaste.

No more doubt.

Fai’s fingers skittered over the raised ridges of scar tissue that marked his back, the touch flicking away almost before it had even occurred, as if Fai was afraid that real contact would break the moment. Kurogane growled and pushed him against the wall. Every inch of their bodies contacted flush, but Kurogane leaned even harder, not willing to give Fai any course of escape.

A shuddering moan escaped Fai’s lips even as his hands caught and held Kurogane’s shoulders.

To hell with the bed that stood only feet away, Kurogane had waited long enough; he was not going to waste another second. He tugged at Fai's shirt wanting, needing.... Ah, there it was. His hand spread across the narrow expansion of Fai's stomach. The skin trembled under his touch.

Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to bring this to a frenetic close of ripped clothing, sweat and satisfaction, but only one thought filled his mind. It's about damn time. Riding the wave of that thought, it was awfully tempting to just screw Fai into the wall and save the gentle version for later when they weren't both so desperate, and given the groans he elicited from Fai as he dragged lips and teeth and tongue across his throat, there would be few objections.

They fought the clothes - fingers tangling on unfamiliar closures. Even wearing the clothes for days couldn't familiarize them enough to deal with them through shaking and grasping hands. He'd just manage to fumble the front of Fai's shirt open when hands dug into the shoulders of his.

Fai hauled himself up until he was within reach of Kurogane's mouth. This kiss was hard, possessive, as if a levee had broken and Fai was determined to claim Kurogane as his own. His lips drew patterns across Kurogane's jaw before settling into the crook of his neck, breath ghosting across his skin. Fai's grip on his shirt relaxed, hands opening to spread wide across his chest.

Two seconds away from tearing Fai's clothes from him and burying himself as fast as could be painlessly achieved, and it was that gesture that stopped him. No more doubt, certainly, but that still didn't mean that Fai knew how to do anything other than sacrifice - himself, his life, his magic, whatever was needed to protect the people he cared about.

Fai wanted, but he wouldn't take.

Hell no. He'd given Fai enough lessons in self-worth; one more wouldn't hurt. Even so, it took every ounce of will power to step back until he no longer had Fai pinned against he wall. Blue eyes flashed up at him until he glowered back - no more _doubt_ \- and then grew dark when Kurogane’s hands dropped from Fai’s stomach to ghost over the arch of his hipbones. He let his gaze rake up and down, cataloging the expanse of pale skin and slowly deciding where he was going to start.

The air hung stagnant between them, and Fai dropped his head back to stare up at him, confused by the lack of action but not as worried as he would have been even a few short days ago. Between the loose folds of fabric hanging from his shoulders, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

The small motions caused by Fai’s breathing drew attention to his collarbone, the sharp planes of his stomach, and even farther down to the apex of his legs and the unmistakable bulge that Fai’s pants did little to hide. It was all tempting. He slid his hands under the small of Fai’s back and nosed into the side of his neck, pressing light kisses up to the smooth skin just under his ear.

"Kuro..." The name was almost broken coming from Fai's lips, and when Kurogane's hands tightened on the small of his back, his sudden arch cut off the last of it even if he had been planning on finishing. His hands clenched down on Kurogane's shirt again.

Kurogane smirked into the base of his hair and then nipped gently at the skin down the length of his neck to the arch of his collarbone. He smoothed a thumb over the thin skin there and leaned back at Fai’s startled groan. In that one terrifying moment, he read the surprise in Fai’s expression and realized that, though Fai was not inexperienced, maybe even he didn't know where and to what his body would respond.

So Kurogane explored. He dragged open palms across Fai’s chest, pausing ever so briefly to rub his thumbs over peaking nipples. He dropped a hand lower to cup Fai’s ass even as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along his jaw. The tips of his fingers pressed briefly against the curve of Fai’s dick, drawing a line from base to tip and lingering as the heat of it burned through the fabric, and Kurogane felt it swell under his hand. Learning Fai's desires by touch and guess and visual cues should have been next to impossible except that the masks were gone, and Kurogane could watch his eyes widen at a surge of pleasure when his contact landed true before fluttering shut.

Fai chased his mouth, catching him for a brief kiss before Kurogane pinned him to the wall again and nudged his legs apart with a knee, pressing forward until his erection bumped up against Fai's hip and he could feel the hard line of Fai's on his thigh. He braced an elbow on the wall above Fai's head. _This._ How long had he wanted this? The thought was driven from his head when Fai rolled his hips experimentally and moaned low in throat.

The bed was still only feet away, and even though he'd managed to slow the frenzied pace, Kurogane couldn't spare the seconds of distraction it would take for them to get from here to there. He took a scarce minute to step back and free up some space between them - the pants in this world were impossible to manage under the best of conditions. He shucked off both their pants, tossing them somewhere in the corner over his shoulder and growling a good-natured complaint at Fai's answering chuckle. Fai’s shirt was mostly wedged down around his elbows and out of the way, but Kurogane tugged it over his hands and let it fall to the side.

Without the covering fabric, Fai looked even smaller than usual, and Kurogane wrapped his hands around his sides, fingers stroking gently over the swell of his ribcage just shy of his nipples. He bent to kiss the edge of Fai's stark collarbone but was stopped by a firm hand in the center of his chest.

Desire underlain by hesitation flashed wickedly in Fai's eyes, and he tugged upwards on the hem of Kurogane's shirt. With Fai's help, the shirt came off with only the briefest of snarls on his arm, and he let Fai cast it aside, dropping his arms slowly and feeling the prosthetic pull against his shoulder. For a moment, he met Fai stare for stare, eyes dropping to where they were both hard and aching, and realized that he could just step forward and rub himself against Fai’s hip until they both reached the foregone conclusion of this. It was so awfully tempting.

But then fingers stretched out and stuttered over his scars, much like they had at the beginning - spreading wide across a series of short cuts along his abdomen, tracing a particularly vicious scar up between his pectorals to where it stopped directly in the center of his sternum, and then barely grazing over the edge of flesh and metal before Fai leaned into him and placed light kisses along the contact.

It surprised him. Kurogane cupped a hand around the back of Fai’s head and arched his back to lean into the touch, grunting when the movement bumped the head of his cock into the smooth skin of Fai’s stomach. The slight fog accumulating on the metal prosthetic evaporated under Fai’s sudden gasp, and Kurogane’s frayed self-control broke. He pushed him back to free enough space between them and wrapped a hand gently around them both, stroking slowly and surely over their heated flesh. He could feel the pulse of blood just under his and Fai’s skin, the desire winding tighter in the pit of his stomach, and the barely perceptible tremors of Fai’s thighs against his own. They wouldn’t last long.

Fai bucked up into his hand, velvet skin sliding against his, and gasped out a barely audible protest. Even as Kurogane started to pull away, Fai spread his hands across his shoulder blades and held him fast with disproportionate strength. “I want....” Each syllable shook as it left Fai’s lips, a testament to the fact that he was just as close to coming apart as Kurogane.

The words barely reached Kurogane’s ears but still followed a direct path southward, almost singing through his blood. Such simple words should not have that kind of effect on him, but his dick twitched nonetheless. He groaned out a wordless assent before his brain managed to pull more than half a thought together and figure out that Fai was just as likely to ask him to stop for some boneheaded reason as to ask him for something else. “Mage,” he growled low in his throat and was rewarded with a soft chuckle.

Fai was keenly self-aware, and there was no doubt that he recognized the source Kurogane’s worry. His eyes snapped open, and he managed a brief teasing wink before stammering out, “More, Kuro-tan. Not less.”

More he could do.

Possibly. The desire shivering up his spine threatened to overwhelm him for a moment. He dropped his head onto Fai’s shoulder with a solid thunk of bone on bone and sucked in a steadying breath. It took a moment to realize that Fai was pushing flat hands insistently against his chest, but he finally took a few steps back.

Fai jerked his chin towards the far corner. “Pants. Front pocket.”

He stumbled to them, fishing through the fabric until he located a small tube wedged down in the bottom of the pocket. He pulled it out and raised a questioning eyebrow back over his shoulder at Fai.

Fai’s fingers dug into the aged wallpaper, looking for all the world like they were the only thing holding him up. “Sari,” he offered, by way of explanation. “Right when we first arrived. She thought I might need it.”

“You’ve been carrying it around since then?”

Fai tipped his head back against the wall and looked at him with hooded eyes. “A man can dream, Kuro-puu.”

That earned a dark smirk. He was significantly closer to the bed now, but if the weak knees were any indication, Fai wasn’t going anywhere. Kurogane crossed the floor in a few quick strides, planted his hands on Fai’s hips, and pressed him back against the wall. He tucked his head into the crook of Fai’s neck to free his hands and fumble the tube open. Light reflected off the trail from his slick fingers down the length of Fai’s chest, and he gently dragged his fingers over the swell of Fai’s balls before slipping farther back. His thumb caught right on the edge of Fai’s entrance, and he smoothed over it, rubbing lightly.

It had been a long time since the last time he’d done this - the mechanics were a bit rusty. He paused, pulling his hand back long enough to hook one of Fai’s legs over his free arm, and settled between them. A light press dragged an answering groan from Fai’s throat, and his finger slipped slowly in.

Fai made an unintelligible sound that might have been some portion of his name

All he could manage to due was echo the sentiment with a shaky groan, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Fai’s shoulder. If he busied his mouth, he could almost ignore Fai’s leg tightening over his arm and the fact that the motion drove his tentative fingers deeper. As thoroughly tempting as rushing had been over the last few minutes, this was one of those things that Kurogane had learned patience with the hard way. He hunched down far enough to press his forehead against Fai's, forcing his head back against the wall. "No." His growl was met with a keening moan, but he ignored it. Fai's track record with taking care of his body was nothing to write home about, and Kurogane would be damned before he hurt him.

Kurogane dropped his head to Fai's shoulder again with a groan, trying to ignore the shuddering tremors sweeping through the muscles around his fingers. Just a little longer. Just a little bit more, and he’d bury himself within that tight heat.

But when it came down to it, this moment was so long in coming that he found himself slowing without even any conscious effort. The first slide into Fai's body was exquisitely long. Kurogane braced his hand on the wall and wrapped the other tightly around Fai's hip to keep him from rushing. He wanted this moment to last forever, relishing every millimeter gained as their bodies merged.

"My magic," Fai gasped out.

Kurogane froze. He could feel it now, like electricity skittering along the contact between skin and skin, perilous and alluring all at once. Whether it was actually dangerous or not, he had no way of knowing and would have remained still if Fai hadn't let out a low moan and leveraged himself against the wall to push Kurogane the rest of the way in.

Fai's head fell back against the wall, blue eyes wide and so bright they were almost glowing. "Oh gods, it's like it's welcoming you home."

He desperately tried to ignore the shuddering tremors sweeping through the body underneath him. Now that he was fully seated, he wouldn't last long if Fai couldn't stop that rather delightful shivering. Gentle lips pressed to the hollow of his throat and then trailed up the arch. He growled, hitched Fai’s knees up, pinning him to the wall, and thrust experimentally. Twin gasps filled the space between them.

Breath ghosted across his neck, and Fai wrapped his arms around Kurogane’s shoulders, pulling his body in tight. Each slide in and out drew partial broken versions of his name from Fai’s lips. The words were more muffled against his skin with each passing moment as Fai buried his face deeper.

After years of averted gazes and downturned eyes, he was closer to Fai than he had ever been - within him, around him. The thought tore a groan from his throat that shuddered his entire frame. Fai's head jostled against his shoulder. Years of averted gazes, and now Fai was still hiding his face. The groan built to a growl of distaste, and Kurogane grabbed a handful of Fai's dreads, dragging his head back. "Look at me." His chin was tipped upwards now, and his throat pulsed with ragged breaths, but Fai's eyes remained squeezed shut. " _Look_ at me."

Eyelids slid open to reveal a hazy, unfocused blue fire burning beneath them. That fiery gaze stuck on Kurogane's throat, flicking haphazardly up to meet his eyes. Two seconds of connection. Two seconds of a shared gaze, and something broke. Fai arched against him, fingers digging into his shoulder, his hair, anything they could reach. The air crackled between them, bright, charged, and practically sparking with Fai’s magic, and Fai tore his hand away from Kurogane’s hair and braced it against the wall, fingers digging in. A wordless cry escaped his lips.

The spray of heat across Kurogane’s stomach did nothing to quell the tightening coil of desire. It nudged him closer and closer to the edge, and he growled, claiming Fai’s mouth and searching blindly for his hand. He tugged his hand away from the wall and laced their fingers together. As he plummeted over, thrusts becoming erratic, he breathed something that might have been a name over Fai’s lips.

Fai’s fingers tightened around his, and his hips jerked in small aborted motions that almost matched his. Sated and satisfied, but stopping seemed near impossible because the moment would end.

Kurogane slid slowly to his knees, pulling Fai down with him and settling with him draped over his thighs. He curled over Fai so that he could rest his head against the smooth paneling that covered the lower wall. Catching his breath was harder than he’d ever experienced before - the air was tight between them, but the slightest odor of charred paper and wood overlay the expected smell.

He sat back on his heels and looked up the wall. “Did you do that?”

“What?” Fai followed his gaze, let out the softest fake whistle, and stretched up to trace symbol burned into the wall. “It had to go somewhere, Kuro-myu. I thought you’d prefer the wall to somewhere on your body.”

Even though he could read every sign, book, and letter in every world they visited, the symbols used in Fai’s magic were never translated. Kurogane traced the elegant arch that marked off the upper edge of the character. “What does it mean?”

“Everything of the moment it was carved.” A soft smile played around the edges of Fai’s mouth until his eyes focused on the look on Kurogane’s face.  “Don’t worry, no one else can read it.” The smile was back, and he continued to drag his finger over the grooves before muttering thoughtfully, “They’re still celebrating downstairs.”

Kurogane chuckled darkly against his throat. “You’re getting dressed before you go downstairs.”

“Spoilsport.”

* * *

Sari peered at the sigil from one angle and then the other, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. With a slight smile, she turned purposefully towards the bed. No point in leaving some tossed sheets lying around when they’d left such a permanent and obvious mark.

She stepped away only to turn back and put her hand flat against the mark, as if she was carving it herself.  Bits stuck out around her fingers, and the rest of it was narrow under her palm. She put her back to the wall and placed her hand back again. The angle was odd – she had to hitch her elbow up too far to center it - but the fit was better to her hand. Fai was only slightly taller than her, but Kurogane had loomed. She eyeballed the difference, and the scene suddenly snapped into clarity in her mind. “Really? The bed’s _right_ there.”

Even though there was no one there to see, she rolled her eyes for effect, bundled the bedding into her arms, and trotted out the door.


End file.
